


Melancholy Constellations

by Quyinn



Category: Doctor Who, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 1980s Period- Typical Homophobia & Slurs, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Good Relationship, Billy Hargrove Redemption, Billy Hargrove Saves Everyone Else, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Blood and Injury, Child Abuse, M/M, Neil Hargrove is His Own Warning, Steve Harrington Saves Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Saves the Day, Steve is The Doctor (Doctor Who), gay love conquers all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25430719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quyinn/pseuds/Quyinn
Summary: Billy crosses the room, throwing the wooden doors open. The air feels like it's knocked out of his chest as he stares at the vastness before him. Blackness stretches as far as he can see, sucking in the light from a swirling mass of colour.“You’re in space.” The man tells him, voice soft beside him. “Outer space. This is my…” His elbow bumps into Billy’s. “Spaceship. It’s called the TARDIS.”----or, the one where Steve is Doctor Who, and they kick the mind flayers ass (spoilers?)
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Melancholy Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> so i was watching dr who n donna slaps tennant in like the first time meeting him and i was like... billy @ steve so it all spiralled out of my control but here
> 
> everything's pretty much the same except billy doesnt beat up steve n steve has a tardis

Churches put Billy on edge. 

The high, drunken ceiling, propped up under the arms by thick white columns. Dark wooden pews draped in white lace flank him. He spares a glance at Maxine, her nervous hand tucked into the crook of his elbow as they walk down the aisle. 

She’s clutching a small bouquet of bright red and pink roses and some cream lilies. They’re secured in a soft, narrow ribbon.

His father had grabbed him by the collar, thick knuckles pressed into the hollow of Billy’s throat. Tucked in a safe, discrete corner of the church, Neil hissed low and spiteful about how roses mean true love and lilies mean commitment and rebirth. 

This marriage was a new beginning for their perfect little family. 

Billy kept his eyes ahead as Neil pressed harder into his throat. _“Responsibility and respect.”_ As if he hadn’t loved Billy’s mother. As if he hadn’t held her in his arms before cheap beer filled his soul. 

The sound of the wedding march makes Billy clench his jaw. His tie is tight at the base of his neck, collar and shirt smooth. The only crease in the black suit was the bend in his elbow where Maxine clings. 

The flowers clash with her hair, half of it twisted up into a flaming braid, the bottom fanned over her narrow shoulders. He tenses his arm, her fingers getting gently squashed between his bicep and forearm. 

Maxine looks up at him. She doesn't smile.

Neil doesn’t turn when he gets to the end of the aisle, a rose petal stuck to the bottom of his trousers by static. Billy lets Maxine’s hand fall from his arm, her fingers drag nervously down his sleeve. The corner of his mouth ticks up in a subtle smile as she bites her bottom lip.

He takes his place standing to Neil’s right, beside Susan’s older brother. He discreetly runs a hand down the front of his jacket, chewing the inside of his cheek as his fingers graze over the wedding rings. 

Susan had wanted red flowers, red shoes underneath her cheap dress, red ties hooked around everyone’s necks. She had given Billy a nervous smile, saying _“in case you have one of those nosebleeds.”_

Billy thinks there's more to it than that. 

Neil had stopped hitting his face. Once the wedding date had been set, his father kept the bruises to his chest, kicking at his knees to land him across the deck. It kept Neil’s knuckles smooth and clean. Billy’s face was just a bonus, he supposes.

Maxine had overheard Susan’s concern for the wedding photos, not quite understanding but offered her pasty concealer if Billy didn’t sleep well the night before. Neil had pushed her bodily out of the kitchen and turned on Billy, hissing about how _“only fags wear make-up”_ and fisted a meaty hand in Billy’s blond curls.

It had shocked a mirthless laugh out of him when Susan stepped in. She took the scissors from Neil’s red, sweaty palm and smoothed a hand over Billy’s head. 

Neil had a red rose in his lapel, a sign of _true love_ that made Billy feel sick.

It might be childish. To stare at the relaxed slope of his father's shoulders and wonder where exactly is this romantic bone, this ability to love, buried so deep Billy can only remember one moment of affection. 

The day he got his ear pierced. His mother took him along the boardwalk, some guy with an unbuttoned blue shirt slid a needle through the lobe of his ear and his mother cooed. Neil had gotten home, stared for a long moment and then, as gentle as Billy had ever seen his father’s hands, slipped one of his mother’s golden hoops from her ear, cleaned it and hooked it into the fresh wound. It stung a little.

Billy looks a lot like her, he knows from the few photographs he has of her. Their hair falls the same, corkscrew-like curls around their jaws, the same stubborn lock that hangs over their right ear. He still has one of her earrings in, a silver one, in the scarred lobe of his ear from one too many tears. They had the same Cali blue eyes. Neil never looks at him.

Susan walks down the aisle, a veil covering her pale face. Billy can barely see her wispy red hair from beneath it. Her painted lips are pulled into a shaky smile. 

The few family the Hargrove-Mayfield’s have are stood, suited and booted in their blacks and greys and _true love_ red.

Maxine is looking at him when Billy glances over Neil’s shoulder. 

Her knuckles are white around the bouquet. He can see spots of blood between her fingers where the thorns are digging in. He quirks an eyebrow as her lips part. She starts to mouth something at him but a sharp shout from the front row tears his attention away. 

One of Susan’s uncle’s, he thinks, has a hand cupped over his mouth, the other pointing sharply at Billy. Neil turns quickly on his heel, fists gripping in the lapels of Billy’s suit jacket. 

“I don't know what your game is, boy, but-” Billy stares at his own hands, the way they’ve grabbed for purchase on Neil’s shoulders. His veins have flushed black and his sun tanned skin has turned almost ashen. 

Neil’s lip curls in a vicious snarl, his eyes narrow and angry. Billy chuckles, his knees buckling as darkness ebbs at his vision. 

He blacks out. 

He was only unconscious for a second. His knees shake and there's a thick coil of nausea in his stomach. There’s no meaty hands holding him up, and he swears under his breath as he crashes down on the ground.

The grated floor digs into his knees and the palms of his hands, biting harsh lines as he forces his eyes open. His hands are as tanned and scarred as they always have been but his stomach lurches as he remembers the way his veins seemed to crawl beneath his skin. 

He forces his eyes to focus, sitting back on his heels to look around. 

The room is bathed in a soft orange light. Thick tree-like columns winding from the four corners of the grated platform up to the ceiling. Double doors tucked on one side look tiny compared to the large expansion of lamps on the walls. There’s a large table in the center of the platform, covered in buttons and levers. Billy sucks in a breath, looking up at the tall tube that stretches from the table up to the ceiling. 

He spots a man darting around the table. 

“Who’re you?” He barks. The man spins around to face him. His eyes go wide, dark and brown like a deer in headlights.

“But…” 

“Where the fuck am I?” Billy struggles to his feet, leaning on the railing surrounding the grated platform.

“What?” The man’s eyebrows are drawn down and he has harsh creases in his forehead. 

“What the hell is this place?” Billy waves his arm, gesturing wildly. His chest feels tight and he itches to move. 

“What- You can’t do that, I wasn’t…” The man runs a hand through his thick mop of dark hair. “We’re in flight. That is, that is physically impossible. How did…” The man turns back to what Billy thinks must be the control panel, and pokes at it. 

“Seriously, man. Where the fuck am I?” Billy forces his heavy feet to cooperate and takes a step closer, his teeth bared in a snarl. 

“Inside the TARDIS.” The man skirts around to the other side of the control panel, hands dipping under the untucked hem of his black button up shirt to settle on his hips. 

“The what?” Billy clenches his jaw, momentarily distracted from his steadily rising anger. The man was pale, almost pasty and Billy watches him suck his bottom lip between his teeth.

“The TARDIS.” Blood was filling the man’s bottom lip and his teeth were white and sharp where they were worrying it. 

“What?” Billy blinks sluggishly.

“The TARDIS.” 

“That’s not even a proper word.” Billy scoffs, pushing off the railing to get in the man’s personal space. 

“How did you even get here?” The man pays no attention to where Billy is almost pressed into his side. His dark eyes are focusing on the small screen in front of him. 

“Well, obviously- when you kidnapped me! Did Neil put you up to this? He couldn’t have paid you, the old man wouldn’t bother wasting money to waste me, he’d wana do that himself.” Billy snarls into the side of the man’s face.

“Who the hell is Neil?” The man asks, unbothered by Billy’s anger. He gives Billy a slow look over.

“As if you don’t know.” Billy barks out a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. He shakes his head, turning away from the man. Unbelievable, as if Neil went to this much trouble to get his son out of the way.

“No, actually I- hold on- wait a minute.” The man grabs his arm, spinning Billy back to facing him. “What are you dressed like that for? A party? Funeral?”

“It’ll be yours if you don’t take your fuckin' hand off me.” Billy bites out. The man smiles softly, hand skating up Billy’s chest to touch gently at the rose in his lapel. 

“Easy, Red, I was just asking.” The man drops his hand away, eyes warm. Billy bares his teeth, tearing the _true love_ red rose out and tossing it onto the control panel. 

“I was goin’ to the surf. what do you think, dumbass?” Billy splays his arms out. “Stood at the end of the aisle and now- fuck.” Billy wipes a hand over his face. “If you didn’t bring me here… Fuck this.” 

The panic bubbles in Billy’s chest. Neil will kill him. No amount of explaining will get him out of bailing on the wedding. He glances around, spotting the double doors from earlier.

“No, wait a minute, Red, wait- no, don’t-” Billy crosses the room, throwing the wooden doors open. The air feels like it's knocked out of his chest as he stares at the vastness before him. Blackness stretches as far as he can see, sucking in the light from a swirling mass of colour. 

“You’re in space.” The man tells him, voice soft beside him. “Outer space. This is my…” His elbow bumps into Billy’s. “Spaceship. It’s called the TARDIS.”

“How am I breathing?” Billy forces himself to speak louder than a wondered whisper. His chest feels tight, like he’s drowning in the dark, empty stretch.

“The TARDIS is protecting us.” The man sounds prideful, elbow knocking into Billy’s again as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

Billy stares out into the never-ending space, feeling small. Helpless. He straightens his spine, his shoulders just shorter than the man’s. 

“Who are you?” He watches as a smile tugs on the corner of the man’s mouth. 

“I’m The Doctor. You?” 

“Billy.” 

He forces himself to stay still as the Doctor’s curious eyes rake over him.

“Human?” The Doctor asks. 

“Yeah. Is that an option, Spaceman?” 

“Well, it is for me.” Billy meets his eyes, sucking in a surprised gasp.

“You’re an alien?” 

“Yeah.” The Doctor breathes like he’s begrudging a secret. He stares out into space without the amazement Billy has. As if he’s seen it before and is sick of the view.

“What’s that?” Billy leans forward slightly and points to the mass of colours and light. 

“Careful, Red.” The Doctor curls a hand around Billy’s shoulder, pulling him back from the edge. “That…” He points a long finger to the swirl of colours, his other arm a warm, grounding weight over Billy’s shoulders, “Is a galaxy. Not your galaxy, of course. There are thousands out here.” 

“Never seen anythin’ like it.” Billy couldn’t help but relax under the Doctor’s arm. “Don’t teach much on space at school. Just it’s big, I guess.” 

“What year were you born in?” The Doctor asks neutrally. 

“1968.”

“Huh.” The Doctor scratches the back of his neck. “Well, that does complicate things.” He glances over at Billy, meeting his eyes. Billy swallows as the Doctor wets his bottom lip, tongue red in comparison to his pale skin. 

“It’s freezing with these doors open.” Billy murmurs after a long moment. The Doctor blinks quickly, leaning into Billy’s space to push the doors closed. His body’s warm against Billy’s side and he smells of static electricity. It reminds Billy of the way the Cali ocean looks under storm clouds. 

“I don’t understand it, and I understand everything! This can happen.” The Doctor’s long legs carry him up the slope to the control panel. “There is no way a human being can lock itself onto the TARDIS and transport itself inside. It must be…” The Doctor flaps his hand as Billy comes closer.

His fingers dance over the buttons, flipping a switch and turning something till it squeaks. He grabs something from the underside of the control panel. Billy frowns as the Doctor leans in close, muttering _“Impossible.”_

“Woah there, pretty boy. Don’t know what kind of vibes I was givin’ but back off.” Billy tries to step back but the metal railing is cradling his lower back.

“Some sort of connection? Something in the temporal field?” He brings a device up to Billy’s face. It looks similar to something he saw in a school nurse's office. The Doctor looks through the flat, black end, mirroring Billy’s actions when he tries to duck away.

“Seriously, man. Stop.” Billy balls his fists at his sides. The Doctor’s chest is almost against his, shirt buttons catching against the folds of Billy’s suit jacket.

“Maybe something pulling you into alignment with the Chrono shell. Maybe something macro mining your DNA within the interior matrix. Maybe a genetic…”

Billy lands a punch to his jaw. 

Well, it’s more of a tap, the sharp cut of the Doctor’s jaw sends a slight ache across his knuckles. It’s enough to get the man reeling back, out of Billy’s space, cupping his jaw in a pale hand. 

“What was that for?” The Doctor exclaims.

“I said back the fuck off, man.” Billy points a thick finger in his direction. “Get me the hell back to the church. If this isn’t Neil’s doing, then- then I’m dead-” 

“Right! I don’t want you here anyway! Where is this… What was it? Wedding?” The Doctor rushes around the platform, canvas sneakers squeaking against the grating. 

“Wedding. St Clare Parish, Washington Street, Santa Clara. California. United States. Earth. The fucking solar system.” Billy growls, running his hands through his hair. His fingers get caught on a few knots, frustration making his chest tight.

“Make a habit of abducting underage high schoolers, do you? Doctor?” Billy crosses the room, pulling a purple knit cardigan off one of the tree-like columns. 

His blood was loud in his ears, the weight of the wedding rings heavy in his suit jacket. His father was going to kill him. 

“That’s my friend’s.” The Doctor spoke in a low tone. 

“Where are they then? Went out for a fuckin’ space walk?” Billy sneers. He meets the Doctor’s eyes, swallowing with a click. The dark brown eyes stare hard at him, making him feel smaller than he did staring into outer space.

“She’s gone.” 

“Gone? Gone where?” Billy frowns, wetting his lips in nervous habit.

“I lost her.” The Doctor breaks his intense stare, dropping his eyes to the small screen on the console.

“Well hurry up and lose me.” Billy bites, trying to compensate how young and small he feels. He watches the tense curve of the Doctor's spine as he doesn’t flinch to the snarl in Billy’s voice. “How’d you mean ‘lost’?” 

The Doctor walks up to him with even steps, taking the jacket out of Billy’s hand. Billy frowns, a red mark on the Doctor’s jaw. 

The Doctor brings his free hand up. Billy barely contains a flinch as he tucks a stray blond curl behind Billy’s ear. Billy stares at the bruise on his jaw, not wanting to meet the Doctor’s eye. 

“Right! California!” The Doctor bounces on the balls of his feet, teeth bared in a manic grin. 

Billy watches, almost frozen as the Doctor dances around the panel with a magnetic glee, the sort of energy Billy hasn’t seen in anybody before. 

“What kinda alien are you? Are you even a real doctor?” Billy swings himself up to sit on the top of the railing, kicking his heels. “Y’know, I’m not convinced you went to medical school.”

“More of an engineer gone scientist.” The Doctor grins that manic grin. 

“So that’s a no.” Billy rolls his eyes. He grins back at the Doctor, licking over his teeth as he watches him shove his black sleeves up to his elbows. 

\----

“ ‘Aye, Pretty boy. I said Santa Clara. Where the fuck are we?” Billy pulls open the door to the TARDIS, stepping out onto the cobbled ground. 

“Something’s wrong with her.” The Doctor frowns, stroking down one wooden panel, his long fingers soothing the blue paint. “The TARDIS, it’s like she’s recalibrating.”

The Doctor brushes past Billy, dashing back inside. He uses the railings to swing his legs forward with a sharp laugh. “She’s digesting!” He calls back to Billy. 

Billy pokes his head back inside the doorway. The Doctor pats the glowing tube in the center of the control panel, his voice soft and crooning as he peers at Billy. 

“Red, you gotta think- and I mean really think. Is there anything that might have caused this?” Billy backs up a few steps, dipping to the side to look around the side of the TARDIS.

The TARDIS herself was maybe 8ft tall and narrow enough that Billy doesn’t have to lean far to look at the street behind them. Billy circles the police box, his hands wandering around the smooth sides and palms cupping the corners.

“Anything you might’ve done? Any sort of alien contact?” Billy pauses at the back of the TARDIS, reaching up to brush his fingers over the panels that filter through the soft orange light. “I can’t let you go wandering off, not if you’re dangerous.” 

“Hah, Pretty boy, you couldn’t make me do anything.” Billy fiddles with the door handle of the TARDIS, watching the brass hinges lazily stretch. 

The Doctor laughs from hidden behind the control panel. His cheeks have flushed in the gentle light, bare arms flexing as he coaxes a dial clockwise. 

“I mean…“ The Doctor throws him a shy wink. “But have you seen the lights in the sky? Or did you touch something like, different-” Billy stares up at the high ceilings, brow furrowing. “Something strange, like something made out of a funny metal? Who’s getting married? You sure they’re all human?”

“You talk a lot a lot, y’know that?” Billy forces himself to speak steadily, faux- arrogance as the Doctor catches his gaze and holds him there with that intense stare. 

“Oh, Red, I’ve been told that many times.” He grins wide and sharp. He reminds Billy of the shark that washed up on the beach when he was 9, exhausted but compensates by snapping at his ankles with teeth that could shred him. 

“I really gotta get going, man. I’ll find a cab.” Billy jerks a thumb over his shoulder, clenching his jaw as he returns the Doctor’s smile.

“No! Billy, wait!” He barely gets to the corner of the street before the Doctor catches up to him.

“I have to get home, Pretty boy. Can’t waste a day watching you.” _No matter how much I’d like to_. Billy holds a palm to his chest, the ring heavy and ridged beneath the pads of his fingers.

“Come back to the TARDIS.” The Doctor stuffs his hands in his pockets, elbow knowing against Billy’s arm as he falls into step.

“No. Thanks for the ride in your weird box and all but I really gotta go. I don’t expect you to get it or anything.” Billy grumbles.

“It’s bigger on the inside, that’s all.” The Doctor smiles, good-naturedly at him.

“Oh, that’s all?” Billy laughs in spite of his nerves. “Fuck, how long have I been gone? If I’m late, he’s gona kill me-” Billy chews at the skin around his thumbnail, trying to keep his breathing under control. 

“Can’t you phone them?”

“How do you suppose I do that?” Billy snarls.

“Haven’t you got a mobile?” Billy pauses, turning to glare at him.

“No I don’t have a damn mobile phone- it’s 1984 man.” Billy can barely keep his tone from seething, focusing on the way the Doctor worries his bottom lip between his teeth, turning it pink and swollen. His face pales slightly when Billy tells him the date. 

“The wedding you’re missing. Who’s is it?”

“Neil- My father and his new bird.” Billy rolls his eyes.

“He the one who hurts you?” The Doctor reaches out slowly, tucking that same curl behind Billy’s ear again. “You want to go home so badly but you don’t feel safe. You’re scared.” 

“You don’t know shit.” Billy snarls, lip curling over his blunt teeth. He pokes hard at the Doctor’s chest. “Fuck off- I’m not having some stupid little Martian ruin my damn life.” Billy shoves roughly at the Doctor’s shoulder, eyes stinging. 

He starts down the street quickly, blinking away tears that have no right to be there, ignoring the exasperated stammer behind him; _“I’m- I’m not- I’m not from Mars.”_

Billy traps his tongue between his teeth to stop himself shouting a reply as he rounds the corner onto a main street, shouting down a taxi. He ignores the Doctor when he jogs up beside him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, warm through the suit jacket. 

“Why’s his fuckin’ light on?” Billy hisses under his breath. 

“Hey, it’s okay, Red. There’s another one.” The Doctor raises his arm, his other hand slipping down Billy’s spine. “Don’t run off on me again.” He mutters, low and serious in Billy’s ear. 

“I have to get home.” Billy jerks away, feeling his chest start to tighten. 

“I know, I know.” The Doctor catches his face with one hand. “Can you calm down for me? You’re lookin’- Billy, we need to get back in the TARDIS.”

“You don’t understand-” 

“Billy. I have been alive almost a century. I have seen wars battled by creatures I _wish_ mankind was the worst of. I understand everything in this universe and so much more, and you are going to do as you’re damn well told. Get in the TARDIS.” The Doctor tells him steadily, fingers soft on his jaw, his eyes hard and dark. 

“I know the battle you face, Red and I can protect you from it all. You’ve just gotta let me.” Billy leans into the Doctor’s space without realising it. As if his strings have been cut, the anxiety and panic ebbs away and he sighs a long, shaky breath into the Doctor’s shoulder. 

“I just… I’ve gotta get home, man.” He says, almost a muffled whine. The Doctor shushes him, hand gentle as it cups the back of his neck. 

“Come on. We’ll try again.” He lets the Doctor guide him back to the TARDIS, leaning up against the railing as the Doctor fiddles with the controls. “St. Clare’s Parish, did you say?” 

Billy hums in confirmation, walking in a slow circle around the TARDIS. 

_“This is McFly. Come in Doc.”_

The Doctor groans, digging around underneath the control panel and fishing out a radio. _“Doc, do you read me?”_

Billy frowns, resting his forearms on the railing. He thinks it’s a kid talking. 

“Yeah?” The Doctor gives Billy an apologetic look, and rolls his eyes at the radio.

 _“Steve! Why can’t you just be cool?”_ The voice crackles and whines. Billy raises his eyebrow, mouthing _‘Steve?’_ at the Doctor. 

“Fine okay. This is Doc, I read you. What’s your 20?”

_“Home 20. We’re wrapped up here, just on you now.”_

“I’ve got company. I’ll pick you up when I can.” 

_“10-4, good buddy.”_ The Doctor lowers the radio and gives Billy a nervous smile. 

“That was Dustin. He’s my brother.”

“Dustin McFly?” 

“No. No, _McFly_ is from a movie. _Back to the Future_? You seen it? Not important.” The Doctor smiles awkwardly. “I didn’t lie to you.” He rushes out. “I am The Doctor. Dustin and his friends call me ‘Steve’. They thought I needed a Human name.”

“Take me home.” Billy clenches his jaw. He’s clutching the metal railing tightly, knuckles white. 

“Come on, don’t be like that.” The Doctor points, leaning beside him. He rests a gentle hand on Billy’s shoulder. “There are things in this universe, amazing things, Billy. But there’s balance. There’s bad things out there too. That’s what I do. I’m The Doctor, I fix and repair things.”

“Take me the fuck home, _Doctor._ Before there’s consequences you can’t fix.” Billy stares at the TARDIS doors, eyes stinging. There’s anxiety and dread coiling in his stomach and he feels sick. 

“Okay.” Billy doesn’t move as the warm hand falls away from his arm. He tries to ignore the footsteps and the whirring and the hiss of the TARDIS.

He flinches when there’s a light touch to his elbow. 

“You don’t have to go. I can show you-” Billy shakes him off. 

“You claim to understand everything. So you _know_ why I won’t stay.” The Doctor presses closer, palm resting lightly over the bruising on Billy’s ribs. 

“Don’t go back.” He says. 

Billy turns, shoulder knocking into The Doctor’s chest. He walks towards the door, sucking in a deep breath to ignore the fingers running over his shoulder. 

He opens the door, squinting at the sun. They’re in front of the church, tucked under a tree on the sidewalk. Billy can see the oak double doors open at the top of the tiled red stairs. He can’t see Max but Neil is coming towards him, face ruddy and angry. 

“You-” He starts out, spittle already flying over his lip, but Susan stops him, catching his elbow. She has a soft look on her face, dress smooth and pure as it flows out behind her.

“Billy, dear. We thought we had lost you.” Her voice is scratchy, her eyes half hidden and dark under the veil. 

“Red, come here.” The Doctor’s voice is quiet and steady. His fingers are still on Billy’s shoulder, curling a little tighter. 

“Billy, my dear. Come now, we can finish the ceremony. We were waiting for you.” 

Billy takes half a step back, feeling the Doctor’s chest against his side as Susan’s skin turns ashen, black veins creeping up her arms. They spread onto Neil, his eyes rolling back in his skull as the black lines weave over his neck and face. 

The Doctor is shaking him. 

He reaches to bat him away but lets out a shout when he sees the black, inky lines over the back of his hand. 

“Calm down, it’s okay.” The Doctor’s voice is steady and his hand is tight on Billy’s shoulder. “Red, listen to me. This is one of the bad things but it’s only small. We can fix it.” 

There’s darkness that ebbs at his vision. 

“I-” He groans, a sharp pain blooming in his head as Neil points at him. 

“Join us, son.” Neil’s voice is scratchy and low. 

“Red, no! Don’t move, we can fight this.” The Doctor is yelling in his ear but a wind has picked up around them, the pain and the noise making Billy’s ears ring. 

“How?” He roars. He feels like he’s sinking, as if the sidewalk was made of sand. He can’t move his legs. They’re so heavy, _they’re so heavy._

“Imagine a gate. Billy, listen-” There’s a warm hand on his face. It stings and he tries to tear forward. Neil’s hand is out, cold eyes watching him. _Cold cold cold._ “Billy, imagine a gate- sort of a tear in the very fabric of this world. Do you see it? Billy, can you see it? Imagine that’s where this darkness is from, that’s the tear where these bad things come from.”

The hand on his face is burning. Billy can’t help but scream, shaky and wet. 

“Close the gate. Imagine it, come on. Sew it up, shut it off. Whatever you do, close the gate, Billy!” 

He sees it. 

Billy thinks his eyes might be closed, he can’t feel the heat of the sun anymore. The ground under him is dusty and frail. The air hurts his throat, like breathing in water. Not ocean water, not salty or familiar. It has Billy gagging, his stomach clenching as he tries to throw up. 

Just ahead of him is a gaping slit. The edges are frayed and jagged. He screams, a line of heat running down his spine, the pain making his vision swim. The tear in the sky seems to speak to him.

 _“_ **_Join us, son. We almost lost you. Come with us_ ** _.”_

It sounds like a mantra of voices. Gravelly, scratchy, high and low. It makes Billy’s ears ring. His lungs hurt, his chest heaves gulping breaths that leave him gasping like there’s no oxygen. 

There’s another voice. It doesn’t sound anymore familiar than the rumbling growl of the tear. It’s clearer, though. It cuts through the aching fog of his mind. 

_“Come on, Red. Let it go. You can do this- close the gate. I know you can do it. Red, please.”_

Billy stares up at the tear, the gate. His eyes sting and it feels like his feet are cinder blocks but he walks towards the gate. His arms shake as he raises them up, resting his palms on either side of the tear. 

Slowly he pushes each jagged side together, watching them knit together. It fuses inch by inch, turning into nothing where it was now joined. Billy works his way up the gate, tears leaking down his cheeks as his fingers freeze. It burns to move them along the icy surface of the gate.

It hurts so much. There’s something burning, cupping his jaw, white hot and Billy thinks he can smell smoke. The pads of his fingers stick to the gate, skin tearing and blood drips down over his wrist. 

There's screaming, the mantra of voices slowly forming into Neil’s. Billy clenches his jaw, trying to ignore the long stream of abuse. 

The clear voice cuts through. 

_“So close, Red! You’re doing so well. Keep going, come on.”_

He can hear waves. 

Turning his head, Billy sees the ocean. The crystal glitters on the surface of the water. The waves are crashing against the sand, around the ankles of a woman. 

“Mama?” Billy whispers. His hands are so cold against the gate. His limbs hurt. 

She turns to him, as if she had heard everything he thought. Her eyes are bright, like jewels, hair perfect golden ringlets. 

**_"Baby? My baby._ ** _"_ Her lip wobbles as the waves crash, the hem of her silk skirts are wet. **_“Give up, baby. You’ve done all you can.”_ **

Billy chokes on a sob, all the pain draining out of his body as his knees hit the dusty floor. Her strong, tanned arms open wide. 

**_"Come, baby. Nobody will hurt you.”_ ** There’s no scar on her lip, no bruises on her skin. There’s no crack in her skull, no blood dripping down her neck, no blood spilling onto the floor. Her breathing is even and she smiles at him, fingers waving him to come closer. **_“Baby?”_ **

Billy barks out a sharp groan as the heat intensifies on his neck, circling his throat.

 _“Red, whatever you see it- it isn’t real. Please, Billy. I wouldn’t lie to you, friends don’t lie. Trust me- come back!”_ The voice is loud and clear, shaking the image of his mother, glitching the waves. 

“Mama, I’m sorry.” Billy gasps a shaking breath. He presses his palms to the edges of the gate, clenching his teeth as the biting cold shoots through his hands and up his arms. He drags the gate together, closing each inch. 

His arms are numb and heavy but the hot fire on his throat keeps the cold from spreading further. 

Billy strains to reach the final stretch of the gate, baritone screams echoing in his head.

 ** _“Baby…”_** He hears his mother, as if she was behind him. He can almost feel the familiar hand through his curls, ruffling them like when he read a whole book to himself. 

His hair doesn’t move. His throat burns, inside and out. 

Billy keeps his hands moving up the gate, palm sticking and dragging. He can see smears of black, his blood, creating a trail that disappears as the tear repairs. 

_“Come on, Red.”_

Billy finds the energy to smile, weak and aching, the heat wrapping around his throat and squeezing as he reaches the end of the tear. There’s screaming in his head, in his ears, echoing out into the barren grey landscape around him. 

The gate disappears underneath his fingers.

Billy’s arms shake, locked and frozen out in front of him. He sees his blood splatter into the dust. Crimson. 

_“Need you to do one more thing, Red. You’re almost done.”_

“No!” Billy’s hands fall to his sides, wrapping around his head as he hunches over, forehead pressing into the dirt. “I can’t- I can’t do anymore!”

_“You can’t stay there. Come on, Red.”_

“How? How!” Billy straightens up, whipping his head around. The monochrome landscape is falling away, crumpling around him. Darkness stretches out in every direction. “I-” 

He sucks in a gasping breath of cool air. No dust sticks in his throat, threatening to choke him. The feeling slowly creeps back into his arms, into his hands, letting his fingers curl into fists. Blood drips down over his knuckles. 

The heat around his neck makes him choke as it gets tighter. 

_“Come on, Red.”_

His vision swims and he fights to stay sat up on his heels. He barely manages to stop his head from lolling forward, chin bumping his chest. He’s so _tired_. 

_“Come on.”_

A bone-deep exhaustion settles into him. 

_“Red.”_

He can’t find the energy to tell the voice to fuck off. Billy clenches his jaw, hissing as his hands loosen and lays his hands on his thighs. He lets his head bow forward, eyes slipping closed. 

\----

“Come on back to me, Red. It’s okay. You did it.” The Doctor is murmuring softly beside him, hand loosening from it's gentle hold around Billy’s neck. 

His whole body hurts. 

There’s pins and needles in his legs, a sharp stinging in his palms, his chest burns with every breath. 

He doesn’t notice the heavy ache in his throat until the Doctor brushes his fingers down the length of his neck. 

“Shit!” He hisses through clenched teeth, eyes flying open.

“I’m so sorry.” The Doctor’s eyes are sad and dark. There’s sweat on his brow and his hair is dishevelled and damp, draping over his forehead and sticking to the skin. “You did so well. So, so well.” 

His voice cracks, a whisper of praise. His hands are quick to support Billy under his arms as Billy struggles to sit. The Doctor brushes Billy’s blond hair from his face. “So well.” 

“Wh’t happ’ned?” Billy’s tongue feels too big for his mouth, dry and sore against his teeth. 

“You closed the gate.” The Doctor laughs, as if in disbelief. “Red, you did it!” He squeezes Billy to his chest in a gentle hug, a wide grin broken out over his face. 

“Sure I didn’t get hit by a truck?” Billy mutters into his shoulder. He sees the prone figures of Neil and Susan, crumpled on the steps of the church, not a tear or scuff in their clothing. 

“No, my darlin’. You did it.” The Doctor’s eyes are shining. 

“Billy!” He hears Maxine shout, footsteps loud as she runs. She skids to a stop beside them, dropping to her knees. “I watched everything- I thought you died!” She punches his shoulder lightly. It still sends a jarring spark of pain through his chest.

“Have I seen you before?” The Doctor scrunches his nose up.

“No? Who are you?” Maxine frowns, her eyebrows drawing down. 

“This is Maxine, my step-sister. Meet The Doctor.” Billy goes to raise a hand to gesture but ends up sending a burst of pain from his shoulder to his fingertips. He chokes on a grunt, The Doctor’s hand rubbing warm circles down his spine. 

“ _Max_.” Maxine says, sticking her hand out. “What kind of name is Doctor anyway?” The Doctor shakes her hand with a grin. 

“You can call me Steve if you like. Sorry about all this.” He let’s go of her hand and pulls a screwdriver out of his jean pocket. “Look after your brother for a second? I just need to…” The Doctor leans Billy against Maxine’s knees and gets to his feet. 

The screwdriver whirrs in his hand as he scans around them. “Okay.” He says decisively, crouching beside Neil and Susan. Billy winces, pushing himself up more to watch The Doctor. 

“I’ve erased their memories.” The Doctor walks back to them, resting a hand on Billy’s shoulder as he beds at the knee to catch his eyes. “I can erase yours too.” 

“No.” Billy frowns, mouth falling open. The Doctor's eyes are dark and hard. “No, you can’t do that.”

“Come with me.” 

“I won’t leave her here.” Billy feels his chest tighten. “Those can’t be the only two options. I can keep a secret, Pretty boy. Tell me what the hell happened.” 

The Doctor closes his eyes, taking a long, measured breath. 

“Okay. You cannot tell anybody about today. Both of you.” The Doctor sighs. “There’s a universe. A universe that runs alongside our own. It looks the same but there’s no sun. No heat or light. Everything’s grey and cold and dusty. The air is so thin you can’t survive more than maybe an hour without getting ill. We call it the Upside- Down.”

“There are creatures that inhabit the Upside- Down, that thrive off the cold and the dark nothingness. But the Upside- Down isn’t stable like this universe. It can tear open and spill into this world. It allows these creatures, this sick darkness to bleed through. Possess people. It wants to grow and dominate and overthrow.”

“The Upside- Down must have seen something in that man, something empty enough and dark enough to take a hold and host the monster. They must have been working on a way to get it to take a hold on you.” Steve’s hand runs down Billy’s spine. 

“But it didn’t take.” Maxine says, frowning. 

“No, it didn’t. Billy wasn’t past saving. It’s never too late to rescue someone from the darkness, they just have to _want to_.” 

“How’d I end up in space?”

“The TARDIS is touched by the Upside- Down. When she was scanning for activity, she must have sensed you and grabbed you.” Steve scratches sheepishly at the back of his neck. “I’m not sure why though, there’s nothing in the program even allowing that to happen.” 

“It was a good thing though, right?” Maxine asks. 

“Oh, yes. Definitely.” The Doctor smiles at her. 

“Is there any way we can put the rings on ‘em and convince ‘em they got wasted at the after party?” Billy mutters, seeing Neil’s leg twitch. 

The Doctor raises an eyebrow, warm fingers slipping into Billy’s jacket to fish out the rings. 

They leave the passed out bodies in the second room of the church, Maxine puts music on and helps herself to the wedding cake. 

The Doctor leans on the door of the TARDIS. 

“You sure you won’t come with me?” Billy shakes his head, looking over his shoulder to watch Maxine sit on the church steps, a bottle of champagne in each hand and a corkscrew between her teeth. 

“I can’t leave her with him. No matter how much of a shitbird she is.” Billy shrugs, clenching his teeth as the roll of his shoulders aches. The Doctor nods understandingly. He reaches out and touches gently at the base of Billy’s throat.

“I really am sorry.” Billy winces where the pads of his fingers rest but he swallows down the ache and smiles. 

“You saved me, Pretty boy. What’s there to apologise for?” The Doctor shakes his head, a sad smile on his face.

“It’s not as simple as that. You won’t forget me but I might never see you again.”

“You’re not done seeing me now.” Billy licks over his teeth, grinning as the Doctor follows the action with wide eyes. 

“You’re right.” The Doctor murmurs, eyes darting up to Billy’s then back to his mouth. “Come with me, Red.” 

Billy chuckles, the Doctor’s hand reaching up to tuck that stray curl behind his ear. 

“I don’t know-”

 _“Doc, this is McFly. Come in! DEFCON 3 and rising.”_ The crackling radio makes The Doctor flinch. 

“DEFCON 3- Shit.” He goes to turn, but wraps his hand around the back of Billy’s neck. “Pick a date and a place, I’ll come back- I will.” 

“Surprise me.” Billy swallows, heat pooling in his stomach as the Doctor bites his lip nervously. He presses his forehead to Billy’s. 

“I will- I’ll be back, Red. I’ll find you.” 

_“Steve- come in! Fucking dammit. Steve!”_

“Go. It’s okay.” Billy forces a smile on his face. The Doctor smiles back, relieved and dashes into the TARDIS, doors swinging closed. Billy steps back as the box begins to hum and whir.

He watches it flicker in and out of view like an illusion, before it disappears. He feels his eyes sting as he stretches an arm out, walking forward in disbelief. 

It hurts. 

The Doctor leaves quickly, without a look back. 

Billy sits beside Maxine and they drink champagne from the bottle until she hiccups and dissolves into giggles. He laughs with her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in case she disappears. 

The sun is setting, Billy can see it over the houses. Maxine shivers a little, tucking herself into his side, hiccuping every other breath. Billy teases her, pinches her ear and lets himself relax his aching limbs. 

The peace doesn’t last. 

Neil wakes up. He gets angry, Billy’s not even sure why but within a week, it’s like the Doctor never existed. 

But Billy has proof of that day.

A once blistered, not healed but scarring hand print at the base of his throat. If he closes his eyes and concentrates, he can almost feel the desperate pressure of those fingers, the hard press of the thumb. 

The heat that pulled him back from a parallel universe. 

His life moves on, but the hand print, red and hot to touch, never changes. It never fades. 

It makes Neil angry. The fact Billy has another scar and it wasn’t by his fists. A lot about Billy makes Neil angry. His hair. His ear piercing. The way he treats Maxine, calling her _‘Max’_ and teaches her how to use a skateboard, how to surf. 

Six months and five days after the wedding, not that Billy’s counting, Neil loses it.

Billy’s coming out of Max’s room, a stack of cassette tapes she had borrowed in his hands. He had spent the evening laying across the end of her bed while she did homework at her desk, occasionally shouting answers for maths questions, arms in the air as he drums along to _Metallica_. 

Neil grabbed him by the hair, slamming him into the wall. His breath smelt of cheap cigarettes and scotch, Billy hates the smell. Max told him cigarettes would kill him one day and threw out his pack. Billy grumbled but he hasn’t bought another. 

“The fuck you doing in my daughter's room, huh?” Neil lands a punch that takes the breath out of Billy’s lungs. “Fuckin’ knew there’s a reason you don’t fuck girls. Either you’re a fairy or a fence foal. Which is it?” 

Neil shook him hard, pulling him forward to slam him back against the wall. Billy grunts, his skull smacking against the cheap drywall. 

“Neither, Sir. She needed help with her homework.” Billy grits his teeth, vision swimming as Neil swings at him again. 

Billy ducks without thinking, hissing through the sting of his hair in Neil’s clenched fist. Neil’s other fist busting through the wall. He freezes, dread climbing up his throat. 

“Brasseyed fuckin’ jocker.” Neil spits, drywall crunching as he pulls his hand out. He gives it a shake, letting out a laugh. “You think you're big now, huh? Now turned 17, think you can take on your ol’ man?” 

“No, Sir. I didn’t-” Billy shouts as Neil grabs his wrist, twisting arm. A _crack_ rings out and Billy can’t breath. Pain shoots up to his shoulder and he yells out as Neil sneers, dropping his arm and punching across his face. 

“Get the fuck out of my house. Dirty fuckin’-” He grumbles, straightening up and kicking Billy in the jaw. He walks around Billy, cracking his knuckles, heavy boot standing on his arm. Billy chokes on a sob. 

Neil’s hands are on his shoulders, fisting in his shirt and dragging him up and to the front door. Billy stumbles down the porch steps, not hearing what Neil screams at him. 

He gasps on the floor, only just noticing the blood pouring from his nose, the tears soaking his cheeks. His arm throbs so bad, Billy thinks he’ll pass out. His jaw hurts as his tongue pokes at his teeth, a few of them knocked loose. 

“Doctor.” Billy forms the word through a sob and jarring pain. He thinks he can hear his jawbone creek as he shakes, curled up on his side, staring up at the inky, infinite sky through tears. “Doctor, come back.”

He can hear the neighbours dog bark. He can smell Neil's dusty cigarette ash. The blood is rushing in his ears and he feels so sick he turns his head and retches. He feels weak, shame balling up in his stomach. 

“ _Steve_ .” He gasps, body shaking. “Please-” There’s a thump of footsteps, a quiet _“ohmygodcallanambulance”_ and Billy can’t find the energy to tell them no. he can’t find the energy to keep his eyes open. He can’t find the energy to care if he opens them again.

\----

There’s a sterile smell around him. His body aches but it’s not the worst he’s had. 

There’s a hand holding his. 

Billy squeezes the fingers carefully.

“Hey, Billy.” He hears Max murmur. She sounds scratchy, voice hoarse. “Don’t talk. Can you open your eyes? I’ll get a nurse.” He opens his eyes as Max gets up, chair scraping the floor. He tries to keep a grip on her fingers but she runs off.

She’s only gone for a second, gathering his hand up in her two smaller ones. Her eyes have dark circles around them, red-rimmed. 

“He almost killed you.” She whispers as a nurse comes in. 

“Glad to see you’re awake, Mr Hargrove.” He starts cheerily. 

“His name is Billy.” Max cuts in, frowning. It hurts too much to smile so he squeezes her fingers and winks. 

“Well, Billy. You went through quite the ordeal, didn’t you? You’ve got a broken arm, four cracked ribs and a dislocated jaw with quite a sizable concussion.” He says with a comforting smile. “You’ll have to keep the wires in for 8 weeks or so, the same as the cast. They might come off sooner if your recovery is quick.” 

Billy closes his eyes, tightening his grip on Max’s hand. She thanks the nurse and Billy listens to him leave. 

“Neil’s moving us. Out of California.” Max looks near to tears when Billy opens his eyes. His eyebrow draw down as he struggles to frown. “Said he got a job offer at some lab out in Indiana.”

Billy tips his head back slowly against the hospital bed. He can feel the movement of his throat pull at his jaw.

“I heard what Neil said to you. It’s going to be okay.” Max says, her voice shaking. Billy rolls his eyes and jostles their hands. “I know. You can go back to being an asshole. I’ll start being a bitch to you. I just- don’t forget I do love you. You’re my brother.” She murmurs. 

Billy lets her slip her fingers out from his, hears her trainers squeak across the floor. 

His eyes are wet. He thinks of the blue box and the endless, infinite universe.

\----

Hawkins, Indiana is a fucking shit tip. 

Billy sneers his nose up as he follows Neil’s brown, battered truck down a long stretch of asphalt. 

He’s sat in a gorgeous blue ‘70 Camaro. Neil bought it for him to keep him quiet in the hospital, in the police interview. He slung Billy the keys as they got home from the hospital, only Max had visited. 

He starts smoking again. He has one dangling from his bottom lip as he drives.

The house Neil bought is cheap and small and dirty cream. Inside and out. It has faded wallpaper and won grey carpets. 

High school is piss easy. He has the coolest car, and once he heals up, he has the best looks. Hawkins High might as well have fallen to its knees when Billy climbed out of the Camaro.

He doesn’t talk to Max. 

He makes her lunch if she has a bad day at school. Cuts up old shirts he doesn’t wear into little summer tops for her. Once it was a white button down fashioned into a skirt. He was proud of that one. 

She wears them.

If Neil notices Billy grumbles _“Stop stealing my damn clothes”_ and Max mutters _“In my laundry means they’re mine.”_ She’ll wear them to hang out with her little nerdy friends, today's number is some torn black _Metallica_ t-shirt with a tear in the collar. 

Her friends are in the science club, _"It's AV, not science tonight."_ Four boys who never so much as speaks to Billy. He warns her, once, about what Neil would think if he heard she was holding hands with the Sinclair kid. She told him to screw off, but was more careful in public.

Billy has to ferry Max around. To the arcade, the diner, whatever shitty house her little creepy friends are hanging out at.

"It's not fair, she has her board so-" Billy scrambles, his hands coming up to grip at Neil’s arm as he grabs him by the throat, thumb digging into the hinge of his jaw. 

"You don't speak to me like that, _son_!” Neil almost cackles in his face. He kicks at Billy’s knees, basketball shorts doing nothing to protect him as his legs buckle.

Neil throws him to the floor, landing heavy kicks to Billy’s stomach before he has the chance to curl in on himself. Neil pulls his head off the floor by his hair. “Respect and Responsibility, hm? Faggot like you should try learnin' some.” 

Neil shakes him by the fist in his greasy curls. Billy blacks out for a second as Neil punches him repeatedly across the face. Billy hears Max’s door open and he struggles to raise his arm. 

“Close the damn door, Maxine! This is none of your business.” Neil barks. Blood drips between Billy’s teeth as he coughs, waving his hand. Max closes the door. Billy can hear her cry.

He drives Max around, gets good grades and a job at Hawkins public pool. Neil lay off on smacking him around because he doesn’t wear a shirt at the pool.

He’s driving to pick Max up from the arcade when something flickers in the middle of the road. Billy swerves and ends up crashing the car. Into the side of a barn. He can hear whispers in the wind as he struggles out of the camaro. 

“Hello?” He calls out into the darkness. He turns on his heel, hearing movement. He doesn’t see anything other than shadows. The barn door swings open slowly. 

**_“Come in, come in.”_ ** The darkness seems to coax. **_“Lonely boy, so, so lonely. We’ll fix you up.”_ **

Billy can hear the blood pound in his ears as wind skates over his shoulders. A chill runs down his spine as he takes a curious step forward. He doesn’t recognise the voice but it washes over him in a soft wave of familiarity. 

**_“Welcome back, son. We thought we lost you, oh we’ve missed you so.”_ **

He’s floating. 

He’s surrounded by darkness. It stretches out in all directions. His voice doesn’t echo, there’s nothing for it to bounce off back to him. 

The fear fades after a while. He can walk for hours and never finds anything. It's easy to get lost when there's no direction. He's so lost, with no destination.

He’s not always alone in his little void.

He sees the faces of the people, Heather, Janet and Tom Holloway, some blond journalist. He loses track of their individual faces. When they speak to him, it's like seven voices melted together, too rough, too high, too deep.

The only one he really remembers was the girl he worked with. Heather, in her lifeguard suit, or in a soft looking purple cardigan that makes Billy's eyes burn when he stares.

The Voice doesn’t talk to him often, the rasping voice short and hungry. 

Sometimes it lets him back into his body. His limbs always feel so heavy, the shallow Indiana sun leaves his skin blistering. 

He gets a glimpse of the screaming at the public pool, the splashes of kids in the water, the hungry voice of Mrs Wheeler. Blistering heat that has The Voice screaming in his skull so loud his teeth hurt. The squashed gremlin faces of those creepy kids his sister hangs out with.

He doesn’t know what he prefers. In the void nothing hurts, he doesn’t even feel real. In his body, everything hurts. He’s sick of fucking _hurting._

“Billy?” 

He opens his eyes, sitting up. There’s a girl, choppy short brown hair standing in front of him. He frowns, recognising the _Metallica_ shirt she’s wearing. 

“The fuck are you?” There’s blood leaking out of her nose, crimson dripping into the void. 

“Wake up, Billy. We need you.” 

She disappears. 

Billy blinks. Rubs his eyes with his fists. He walks in circles, shouting out into the darkness _“What the fuck was that?!”_

He doesn’t get an answer. 

Billy sits, cross legged, for what feels like weeks. He recognised the shirt she was wearing. He didn’t even know her, but then he never really knows anyone who ends up here.

The girl comes back. 

He cracks one eye open to look at her. She’s wearing a yellow and black shirt, crouching down in front of him. 

“Billy, come back.” 

His eyes feel almost like glass as he blinks at her. He doesn’t know why he’s here, let alone where he has to go back to. 

“There was a man.” Billy stills as her voice shakes. She's so young. “There was a man in a blue box with a thousand lights like galaxies. It was so big on the inside.”

Billy gasps as he jerks forward. The darkness falls away. 

There’s so much noise, glaring lights sting his eyes. The girl from the void is under him, his hands holding her down. She’s bleeding. 

“He promised you. He promised you he’d be back and he’s here, Billy.” Her voice cracks. 

His chest hurts. He can hear someone crying his name but he can’t move, his arms locked and frozen in place.

“He wore a black shirt and you were in a suit. A red rose.” 

_Red._

Billy nods his head, his eyes stinging.

She reaches up and curls her skinny fingers around his neck, pressing into the burns. He lets his eyes close, the warmth soaking through him so fast it _hurts_. 

There’s a deafening screech. A towering creature, all sinew and slime, stalks towards him. The voice is loud in his ears as he forces himself up on his knees. 

**_“Nononononono- We must feed! We will never be complete. We need her. Lonely boy, lonely boy, get her, get her, gether, gether!”_ **

Billy clenches his jaw. He gets to his feet, staggering a little as he steps forward. His limbs are stiff and sore and he feels like a stranger in his own body.

 **_“Pussy! Bitch boy! Can’t kill a little girl but you can take so so so many others?”_ ** The voice taunts. It sounds like Neil. **_"One job, one job and you can’t even do it!”_ ** The creature cackles, turning maniacal. 

It’s mouth drops open, revealing a thick tentacle with a flower-shaped mouth. He had seen them wander the void sometimes. He didn’t fear them then. 

He doesn’t fear them now. 

“Billy!” He hears Max’s panicked cry cut through the throbbing in his head. 

The creature’s slimy tentacle shoots forward. Billy throws his arms up, catching it before it reaches the girl on the floor. He grunts as its teeth sink into his skin. He yells, straining to keep his feet planted.

**_“Lonely, little lost boy thinks he’s a hero! Give up, lonely boy. Give up, give up, giveup, giveup-”_ **

There’s blood pouring from his mouth, he can barely feel it drip down his chin and onto his chest. He spits up at the creature through a sob of pain, barely able to see the black blood on the tentacle.

 _“Red!”_

Another voice cuts in and Billy screams. His head feels on the brink of exploding, flowered mouths sinking into his sides. 

_“Let go! Come on, Red. I’ll catch you, just let go. It’s done- all done! Nothing more for you to do now, just hold on for me.”_

Billy feels his knees hit the ground. The Voice screams, wordlessly at him and Billy can barely keep his eyes open to watch the creature draw back. 

He chokes as the tentacle plunges through his chest. 

The noise seems to fall away as he collapses. The creature's mouth is open in a soundless scream and Billy can’t help but smile as the creature starts to flake away. He tries to laugh, but blood bubbles up and he chokes, chest heaving painfully. 

It dribbles down his front, soaking the floor in black.

He can smell static electricity and the handprint on his neck starts to burn as his vision swims.

 _“Don’t close your eyes. Come on, Red.”_

It hurts his chest to breath. He hears a dull whirring sound, the click of a radio.

“Doctor…” He murmurs, eyes slipping half shut as he’s pulled to a sitting position. There’s a solid line of warmth behind him, arms cradling around him. His skin feels like it's on fire. 

“No, don’t call me that. I don’t- Fuck, Red. I don’t know if I can fix you.” The Doctor’s voice sounds so far away but Billy manages to tip his head up, nose brushing the Doctor’s jaw. 

“C’mon, Pretty boy. Wok y’r Martian magic.” Billy coughs on a chuckle, The Doctor’s hands warm as they run up his sides and over his chest.

“I’m trying. Believe me, _I’m trying. Billy, don’t fall asleep-”_

\----

He wakes up to shouting. 

Well, more of an attempt to whisper, voices soft but loud. 

He groans, rolling onto his side. There’s a soft pillow under his head, a blanket over his bare skin, a mattress under him. He opens his eyes, blinking slowly to give his bleary vision some time to adjust to the soft light that bathes the room. 

He’s in the centre of a double bed. The sheets are black and smooth, a pile of clothes at the end. The room has high ceilings, bronzy orange walls. He listens hard, hearing the TARDIS hum around him. 

He sits up slowly, skin feeling too tight. Billy runs his fingers over his chest, wincing when he gets an idea of how much of his torso is scar tissue.

“Why didn’t you tell me the Flayer was _him_?” He could hear the Doctor hiss.

“I didn’t even know you were _you_ until you turned up with a goddamn nailbat!” Max throws back.

Billy chuckles, the sounds scratching his throat. He leans forwards to grab the clothes, sliding his arms up into a dark grey henley. He tugs on the shorts, they're not too loose on the leg, ending just above his knees and stretchy around the waist. 

“I don’t think I care for your tone, Max! Somebody better have a good goddamn explanation for locking him in a sauna. Were you trying to _kill him_?”

“Sorry, _mom_!” Billy can hear the scowl in Max’s voice and he laughs softly, an ache in his chest. He touches the handprint, smiling when it turns hot under his fingertips. He uses the wall to follow the corridor down to the voices, coming out into a wide room.

“Yeah,” Billy interjects weakly, “Fuckin’ hate saunas.” He leans against the doorframe, smiling as the room falls silent. They’re gathered around a large table, the surface of it flashing like a hologram. 

Max’s nerd friends are here and Billy can’t find it in himself to be surprised. The Doctor’s mouth is hanging open as he stares at Billy. The curly haired kid and Bowl-cut are hunched over the table. 

He raises an eyebrow at Sinclair, who has his arm draped over Max’s shoulders. 

“No! No, nope.” He drops his arm away, holding his hands up in a ‘surrender’ gesture. “Nothing’s happening. We’re not even together.” Billy snorts, wincing when the action hurts his stomach. 

“Thought you were dead, asshole.” Max storms up to him, punching him in the shoulder. 

“The fuck?” Billy groans as she slings her arms around his neck. He pats her back gently. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, apparently.” 

She huffs out a wet chuckle against his shoulder. Max lets go of him carefully, hooking one of her hands in the crook of his elbow to help him walk up to the table. The girl from the void jumps off the edge of the table to drag out a chair. They ease Billy into it.

Billy circles the girl's wrist gently. 

“You okay? After…?” She nods, smiling. 

“Yes. You saved me.”

“You saved me too.” He returns her open smile. 

“You made it difficult.” She jumps back up onto the edge of the table, swinging her legs. Max leans next to her, their shoulder’s bumping. 

“I guess I did.” Billy forces a chuckle. The Doctor smiles nervously at him, fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt. Billy licks over his teeth, winking slowly.

The Doctor flushes, dragging a chair over to sit beside him. 

“How long was I gone?” He asks quietly. 

“Too damn long.” The Doctor grimaces as Billy growls, reaching over to rest a warm palm on Billy’s shoulder. 

“There were so many tears, Red. I can’t… I don’t even know where to start.”

“I heard there was a nailbat involved?” The girl's snigger as The Doctor groans, throwing his head back on the chair. His hand slips off Billy’s shoulder so he catches it, twisting their fingers together. 

“So, basically…” Max starts. 

“No! You’re already telling it wrong!” The curly haired kid splutters. 

“Fine then.” Max rolls her eyes. “You tell it.” The curly haired kid rounds the table, dragging his own chair over.

“So, basically-” Max groans, leaning into the girl. She hides her own giggle in Max’s hair. “No, shut up.”

“Dustin!” The Doctor exclaims. 

“Okay! Okay.” He sighs. “We travel in time. Our group here,” Dustin gestures to the kids, “Fix up any tears in the fabric of the universe and generally stop the Upside- Down from running wild.” 

“He,” He points to The Doctor, “Gives us a lift sometimes. In Hawkins, some idiots actually forced a Gate to open, and you got caught in the crossfire. The Mind Flayer latched on to you and used your body to sort out his army.” 

“I don’t remember much of that.” Billy frowns. 

“It’s better if you don’t.” The Doctor murmurs, squeezing his hand. 

“Steve practically bailed on us at Starcourt.” One of the kids glares pointedly at the Doctor. Billy huffs on a laugh. 

“I didn’t bail! I was barely gone for a minute. The TARDIS needed to do a fresh scan and then _somebody_ got dragged up and we had to fix that tear.” The Doctor laughs, shaking their joined hands. 

Billy blinks. 

“Time travel. I had only just said goodbye to you in front of that church when you saved Jane.” The Doctor nods his head at the girl with the choppy hair. “I really didn’t know I had left you for so long, Red.” 

Billy swallows, squeezing his hand. 

“Man, that’s trippy to think about.” The Doctor nods, a small frown on his face. 

“Yeah.” He drags out the word. “People assume time is a strict progression of cause to effect but actually it’s more like…” The Doctor waves a hand.

“Wibbily wobbly, timey wimey stuff.” Dustin finishes.

“We’re not going home.” Max kicks his knee gently. “Steve said we can stay with him.”

“He did, did he?” Billy raises an eyebrow, looking sideways at The Doctor. 

“Yes, asshole.” Max crosses her arms, scowling. 

“Come with me.” The Doctor gets to his feet, tugging Billy’s arm gently. 

“Where you gona take me, Pretty boy?” Billy grins, letting himself be pulled up. 

“Shut up and walk.” The Doctor rolls his dark eyes, but he’s smiling. Their fingers stay entwined as The Doctor throws a “Be good!” over his shoulder. 

They walk slowly, side by side, Billy’s elbow brushing The Doctor’s ribs. They end up at the TARDIS doors. The Doctor smiles taking hold of one handle. Billy rolls his eyes but grabs the other.

They pull open the doors together. 

Billy holds his breath, the vast stretch of darkness grinning at him. There are stars. Billy can see clouds of colour, swirls of light breaking up the empty nothingness. 

“Pick a star and I’ll take you there.” The Doctor says, conversationally. “Actually, pick anywhere and I’ll take you there. Anywhere you want. To do anything you want.”

Billy turns to look up at him. 

“Why?” His bottom lip trembles as he takes a controlled breath. 

“You’re not even an adult and you’ve almost died twice. Come with me, Red. I’ll show you so many different worlds. You’ll never be lost or alone. I swear.” The Doctor holds his gaze, an honest smile on his face.

“Anything I want?” Billy breathes through a smirk. “ _Anything, Steve?”_

The Doctor nods, settling his free hand over the base of Billy’s neck. The cup of his forefinger and thumb press snugly into his throat, fingers tight on his skin. Warmth floods through his body and he tilts his head up.

He reaches to cradle Steve’s face, gasping when static jumps from his cheekbone to Billy’s thumb. 

“Sorry.” He breathes, pushing his face into Billy’s hand. Billy shakes his head, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Steve.” Billy drops his gaze from those dark eyes to his pink mouth. His bottom lip is bruised and swollen. Billy drags his thumb down his face to press the pad of his thumb softly over his lip, testing the plushness. 

“You just going to stand there lookin’, Red?” Steve smiles under his thumb, tongue poking out to lick over the calloused skin. 

_“Steve.”_ He huffs out a laugh, slotting their lips together. 

Steve tastes of starlight and electricity and Billy’s hair is standing on end. He gasps into Steve’s mouth, eyes closing as his tongue pushes between his parted lips. Steve’s fingers dig into Billy’s collarbone as he licks into his mouth, stroking over the flat of Billy’s tongue, withdrawing to nip at his bottom lip. 

He pulls back, forehead resting on Billy’s. 

“You can _never_ call me ‘Steve’ in front of the kids.” He pants, pressing Billy between the doorframe and his body. Billy swallows, throat making an audible ‘click’. 

“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please.” Billy wipes away the dampness under Steve’s eye with his thumb, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Steve makes a small noise in the back of his throat as Billy fists his hand in the shorter hairs on the back of Steve’s neck. 

He tugs gently, Steve’s mouth falling open as his eyes roll back slightly. “Who knew Martians were so easy?” Billy teases, crushing their lips together.

His knees buckle. Billy slides down the doorframe with a surprised gasp before Steve untangles their fingers and clutches at his hip, easing one of his thighs between Billy’s thicker ones. 

Billy can’t help but rock against him a little, sweat breaking out over his skin as Steve’s hand’s find their way under his shirt, gently brushing the shining scars. 

“This okay?” Steve murmurs against Billy’s mouth. He settles his palm flat over the base of his neck, ducking to suck a kiss to the hollow of his throat. He can feel how hard Steve is against his hip.

“Mhm.” Billy slides both hands up into Steve’s hair, one fisting in the strands and angling his head so Billy can curl their tongues together. His other hand strokes through the soft locks of his hair, cupping his jaw and stroking down into the curve of Steve’s back.

Billy rucks up Steve’s shirt, digging the tips of his fingers into the dip of his spine. He runs his fingers over the dimples in his back and uses the belt loops of Steve’s jeans to press closer together. 

Steve feels so warm and soft and Billy’s knees feel weak as Steve’s hand on his hip encourages him to rub up on his thigh. He sighs, something low and relaxed. 

“Still okay?” Steve sounds breathless. There’s a trail of saliva connecting their mouths as Steve pulls back. 

“Ask me that one more time and I’ll throw you into space.” Billy chases the saliva, sucking Steve’s bottom lip into his mouth. 

Steve laughs into his mouth, tongue flicking over Billy's teeth.

The blue, wooden spaceship floats around in space. Her soft glow is swallowed up by the vast, empty darkness.

Steve's fingers are bruising his hip bone. His nails prick like thorns. His pink lips press against Billy's skin, Billy's mouth. 

The air tastes like static electricity.

\--

Inspired by _Looking for Atlantis- Shinji Moon;_

_There was a night when I was younger_

_where I fell in love with Atlantis and swam_

_a thousand leagues beneath the sea with stones_

_in my pockets to get to a place_

_that I wanted to call home._

_You are asleep_

_and this is a confession as much as it is a fairytale._

_I can see the moon like a silver spoon through your window_

_and your body is curved like you’re fitting yourself into the crows nest of our ship._

_I left the warmth of your weight because I dreamt again of a night_

_I want so bad to forget, and I’m sitting here with my heart on the edge_

_of this seat, feeling like I’m peeling my limbs off a sidewalk._

_There is a drought and there is a drowning,_

_and tonight - your arm_

_is a lifesaver around my_

_waist._

**Author's Note:**

> 'good buddy' is a casual sign off that can also mean homosexual 
> 
> this fandom is honestly so lovely, yall have rly inspired me to write more harringove cus ive truly fallen for these boys
> 
> anyway thank u so much for readin', hope you liked it n lemme know what you thought n if i missed any tags
> 
> my tumblr is bloodyjacksparrow if u wana drop a messege or somethin, id link but idk how (like usual phaha)


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